Just Like Any Other Day
by KeepCalmKillAZombie
Summary: The day starts off like any other in the wonderful world of Gorillaz. It quickly makes a dramatic change, however, and it pisses Murdoc off. PHASE 1. r&r pls!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The Geep came to a sudden halt.

Murdoc Niccals sits in the driver's seat, tightly gripping the steering wheel. His eyes are fixed on the dashboard clock.

**10:09 pm**

The moon was hidden behind dark, thick clouds ready to release a devil of a storm. He didn't care though; he was used to being in the rain. The cold drops were soothing on his green skin…

Wait…what the hell was he thinking about? _Come on, Niccals. Get your goddamned mind out of the gutter._ A low rumble was heard followed by the all too familiar flash of lightning.

_Lightning…Noodle doesn't like lightning,_ he thought to himself. He sat back in his seat and placed his head on the headrest. The light show above was strangely comforting. Did it really matter if he was struck by lightning right now? No, of course not, nobody would miss the geriatric.

_Flash, flash. Boom._

How dare he? The drummer of _his_band had the audacity to humiliate him in front of others, never mind who! He was Murdoc Alphonce Niccals! The mastermind behind one of the greatest bands around: Gorillaz. Yes, he decided. It was time to set everyone in place.

Fired by his quick temper, the lone figure starts up the geep once more and makes a quick u-turn. As he sped down the road, the storm above steadily gains strength, with the lightning flashing more frequently. Each clap of thunder resembled a loud roar, causing Murdoc to flinch every few minutes.

"Not far now…," he says quietly. The geep hums softly as it moves through the darkness. As he prepares to make a right turn, the storm suddenly becomes deathly silent. The vehicle's engine is the only sound echoing through the quiet fields. Murdoc feels a chill creep up his spine.

"…No-not far…"

A blinding light flashes right in front of him, causing him to lose control of the vehicle. He feels the tires lose contact with the road, followed by the loud roar that shook the earth below.


	2. Chapter 2

**Been a while, but it's finally spring break over here, so hopefully I can post more chapters before the week is up. Please rate and review! I know it's starting off a bit slow, but it will pick up! Stay tuned. *EDIT: I must have been really tired when I wrote this. Fixed a few things.***

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

_(11 hours earlier)_

Kong Studios had a unique charm in the morning…not that Murdoc Niccals ever paid attention. The 205,098 and some square foot building stood atop of a hilltop in Essex, overlooking a cemetery. There was a landfill right behind the building, and Kong was constantly overrun by the living-dead. That never fazed him, though. Dealing with the pests was just as easy as taking out the trash in the morning; if they ever placed the trash in a proper disposal, that is. At the bottom of the hill stood a large iron fence -with the word "Kong" on the bars- separating two worlds, which was just how Murdoc liked it.

The loud-mouthed Satanist lied in his bed with his eyes halfway open. His mouth was dry and his head was throbbing, but he had such an urge to head into the kitchen; it was so unlike him. _Okay now_, he began, trying to muster whatever strength he had. _It's that time again, up n' Adam. One…two…_ He rolled into a sitting position on three and rubbed his temples. The stained, purple bed sheets were tangled between his legs and a pillow was lying on the floor on the other side of his Winnebago. _How the hell did that happen?_ He stretched his arms and let out a low yawn, sliding to the edge of the bed to get up.

"_Arrrgh_…Wot di' I do last night? Oh yeah…," He pushed his hands into the bed and shot himself up. From the corner of his eye, a gray blur crossed the end of his hall of cabinets.

"Erm… 'Ello?" The Winnebago was silent. Murdoc reached for one of the many empty bottles on the floor and smashed it on the wall. He walked cautiously with his shoulders hunched, and the broken end of the bottle held firmly out in front of him. He swore that he could hear a slight creaking noise, but he figured that it could have also been his massive hangover.

"H-hello? Yew bettah watch ih!" He called. A slight snicker seemed to mock him in reply. He pressed his back against one cabinet, just where the hall met the next room. Murdoc shut his eyes and sucked in some air, and clutched the bottle in both hands.

"Ahhhh!" He yelled, stepping away from the wall and into the next room. He was about to swing the bottle in blind rage, but instead, he was attacked from above and flung to the floor as his "weapon" rolled away. He felt tiny hands hugging his ribcage and a high-pitched laugh ringing in his ear.

"Harō, mādokku!"

"Wha-? Noodle!" Murdoc shuffled to his feet and turned to see a small Japanese girl in a gray jacket and matching shorts, grinning at him from the floor. The antennas from her radio helmet twitched slightly.

"How many times do I have to tell yew?" Murdoc shrieked. The girl tilted her head in confusion and scurried to stand in front of him. She pointed to his face and giggled. Murdoc shot her an annoyed look and touched his face with his right hand. He felt something fuzzy on his face and hurled it away in panic. It was a dirty sock.

"Now loo', Noodle. Yew can't be muckin' about 'ere-," he began, but was cut off when Noodle ran up the wall and nailed a perfect back-flip.

"Oi! I'm talkin' to ya!"

"Watashi wa taikutsu shite imasu!" Noodle yelled in reply. Murdoc growled and picked her up by the collar of her jacket, much like a lion carries its young by the neck. The girl kicked and clawed in protest, but the older man paid no attention. He marched to the door of his Winnebago and kicked it open and used his free hand to grab the waistline of her shorts. He tossed her out and slammed the door shut just as her body fell and made a loud thud. Murdoc turned around triumphantly and dusted his hands. She should have known better than to mess with a man during a hangover.

"MURDOC!"

Uh oh.

"Git yer ass out here!" Murdoc swung around and opened the door again.

"Yes, dear?" He slurred.

"Come here!" A large African-American man with white eyes was kneeling next Noodle who was holding her knee with tears streaming down her cheeks. There was a nasty bruise forming on her left leg. Noodle let go of her knee so that Murdoc could see various bloody scratches.

"Oh… tha' was an' accident, Russel. She tripped n' fell out." Murdoc crossed his arms and looked away.

"Like Hell it was! Poor baby-girl…," Russel gently placed his large hand on Noodle's head. The girl sniffled then hugged him; her sobs were muffled by the large stomach covering her face. Murdoc rolled his eyes and looked around the car park. There were a few cars here-and-there, most of which nobody ever seemed to use. _Maybe it's time to clear the place._

"Hello? Ay, Muds!"

_Actually, the next video could involve this sodding room. Yes, it could be the follow-up to _Clint Eastwood (their current hit)._ The zombies could try to get in through the corridor and_…

"MURDOC!"

"Eh? Oh, right. Sorry love," Murdoc muttered to Noodle as he stepped down from the Winnebago. He walked past them without a second glance, focusing instead on the yellow stripes on the concrete floor. Russel attempted to grab his arm, but Murdoc dodged him and half- jogged toward the door on the opposite side of the carpark.

"Dent-head! Hey, 2D!" Murdoc pounded a fist on the door. It flew open where a tall, lanky, blue-haired man regarded him with black eyeballs. The figure frowned with his mouth open, revealing a large gap where his two front teeth should have been.

"P-please don' do 'at," the gentle, cockney voice replied.

"Aw… did yew take your pills, face ache?" Murdoc cooed.

"No, no' ye'," 2D replied slowly, rubbing his head.

"And why no'?"

"I fought tha' I could-" Murdoc struck the side of 2D's head.

"Next time, take those pills! Idiot…" 2D sunk down to his knees and held his head in his hands. Russel ran over to them, with Noodle hobbling close behind.

"What the hell! D', are you okay?" 2D nodded, his hands awkwardly sliding down his face. Russel grunted and took hold of Murdoc's neck in a viselike grip. The green man gulped and grinned.

"You seriously gotta control 'dat anger issue ya got. First baby-girl, now D'… ever thought 'bout goin' to an anger-management class?" Russel tightened his hand slightly. Murdoc began gasping for air.

"Rasseru-san, yamete kudasai!" Noodle pleaded and tugged at his shirt hem. Russel looked down at her and released Murdoc who coughed hysterically. 2D chuckled, earning him a death- glare from the wheezing Murdoc and a stern look from Russel. A minute passed as the group stood eyeing each other.

"H-oh…okay. We have a lot to do, so if yew lot are done screwin' about…," The green-skinned man placed his palm on the nape of his neck and turned away. He walked back and disappeared through the door next to his Winnebago, the one that led into a hall lined with even more doors.

"I've made Mah-doc mad, yeah?" 2D said quietly. Russel and Noodle eyed him curiously.

Just then, there was a loud crash that echoed through the car park. The door to the corridor flew open just as Murdoc stumbled through, holding a shotgun. He looked at Noodle and waved her over. The girl smiled brightly, accepting her cue and instantly forgetting what the hot-headed man had done earlier. She skipped over to join him, and they both ran past the Winnebago. Russel and 2D followed instinctively, without a word to each other. They slowed their pace and stopped to where Noodle and Murdoc were staring in deep concentration. Murdoc held the shotgun to his shoulder, and Noodle looked like a track runner assuming position, ready for the gun to blow. Russel bent down and picked up a pipe and 2D found a wrench. They could each hear a chorus of different-pitched moans that became louder with each passing second. Beyond a pile of garbage, a cluster of rotting corpses were limping towards them with their arms (most of them, anyway) outstretched.

"All right, kids," Murdoc said with a smirk. "It's cleaning day!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Funny how saying that you'll update during spring break turns out to updating before summer vacation. And here's chapter 3. Yay? Sorry…**

**Disclaimer: Gorillaz do NOT belong to me.**

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><p>The small Japanese girl snapped the neck of a zombie in one swift move. It was the last one that needed to be dealt with. The four friends stood with blood-splattered clothes, grimacing at the sight in front of them. The car park's walls were painted in red; even Murdoc's Winne couldn't escape this battle. 2D dropped the wrench in his hand and let out a relieved sigh. Murdoc lowered his shotgun slowly, listening for any unusual sounds. It was eerily silent, but otherwise normal.<p>

"Aaaaaand that's that," the geriatric smirked and tapped the butt of the shotgun twice on the floor. Three claps then echoed through the car park. The group turned to see a short, slender man watching them from behind aviator sunglasses. He was well dressed, and his cologne seemed to mask the smell of decay.

"Oh my…that was quite something, I must say." He clapped three more times and walked up to Murdoc, extending his hand out for a shake. "I'm John Smith. World renowned music producer, owner of Launch it Records, and the director behind various music videos."

"John Smith?" Murdoc eyed him suspiciously whilst taking his hand.

"Yes. Funny coincidence, I suppose. And you are Murdoc Niccals; the mastermind behind this brilliant band!" John motioned to the other three members.

"Well…," Murdoc's expression was conspicuous, even though he tried to hide his flattery.

"Uh, what can we do for you, John?" Russel piped in.

"I'm here to help you grow, of course. We need to put you all out there; Gorillaz will be headlining every concert venue in England and beyond!" The man stated, a little too excitedly. Murdoc's expression switched into a look of contempt. He'd been waiting for this day: the day when producers from all corners of the world would attempt to control the establishment he'd been working to build. Bull…shit.

"Listen, mate. Yew can't jus' barge in 'ere and charm your way 'round. Wha'dya _really_ want?"

"Please, Mr. Niccals. I see that me being here makes you a bit uncomfortable, but hear me out, yeah? I know for a fact that you were looking for someone to help you…keep track of the band."

"And who told yew tha' lie?"

"Plus, you wanted someone to direct the next video…19-2000? Is that the name of the single?"

"Humph."

"Sorry, I hardly had any time to listen to all of your great tracks." Noodle looked back and forth between the handsome figure and the green grouch.

"Kon'nichiwa! Watashinonamaeha Noodoru!" Noodle exclaimed, tugging on John's jacket. John cracked a large, white smile in response.

"Aren't you a cute one? See? She has the right idea. Opening up to as many people as she can-,"

"You're a stranger in her house. The girl's jus' a lil' curious," Russel muttered and picked Noodle up.

"All righ'. Yew lot have wasted enough of my precious time. Enough social loafing, and get out of my car park. The Winne an' I need a moment," Murdoc rested the shotgun on his shoulder and walked briskly to his vehicle. Russel took Noodle to the hallway, where she began to squirm (knowing that a bath was awaiting her). John turned his attention to the azure-haired man who failed to say a single word throughout the whole conversation.

"You. You're perfect," John said, removing his sunglasses to reveal mischievous blue eyes. 2D suddenly became self-conscious and turned away slightly.

"I see that you're more of the independent type. Does Murdoc ever acknowledge you, though?" 2D's dark orbs narrowed. He faced John now; a dejected vibe seemed to exude from him.

"No. I nevah fough' vat he liked me…I mean, we ge' along now n' ven…," 2D trails off, realizing too late that he should probably not talk about the band's issues with a stranger. John, on the other hand, offers a look of sympathy and reaches into his jacket to pull out a white card. He hands it to 2D who examines it carefully, as though the answer to his problems was written out for him.

"Fanks, mate! Le' me walk yew ou'," 2D said cheerfully, stuffing the card into his pants pocket. The two men headed into the hallway. "By the way, how di' yew ge' in 'ere?"

~.~.~

Concealed by his Winnebago, Murdoc had listened to the exchange outside. He gritted his teeth; that blue-haired idiot was going to pay. Putting on clean (err…cleaner) clothes, Murdoc opened his laptop and searched for "Launch it Records". The website was there, and it was pretty impressive. He clicked on the _biographies_ tab and looked for John Smith. Bingo.

¨Mr. Smith is credited with producin´ the albums of some of the greatest musicians of all time, ¨ he read aloud. "Wot a pri-," but it was what was written in the next sentence that caught him off guard. ¨Smith was once the guitarist for the band _Bullworker_…whose othah notable membah was Murdoc Niccals of Gorillaz.¨

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><p><strong>So he knew this guy once, but he didn't seem to recognize him. What could he possibly want with Murdoc and his new band? <strong>

**John Smith...I'm so creative with names.**


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